


so suddenly, the only thing i wanted

by foreverautumn



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Best Friends, Feelings, M/M, Mutual Pining, Touching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:40:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24245152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foreverautumn/pseuds/foreverautumn
Summary: “What if I had something to tell you?” Oikawa does tear out a few blades of grass, then, running them between his fingers before letting go. He wonders if Iwaizumi is watching, too. “But it’s something that you might already know.”So why is it so hard to say? His throat feels inexplicably tight.(Oikawa knows Iwaizumi better than anyone, but Iwaizumi knows him, too.)
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 15
Kudos: 121





	so suddenly, the only thing i wanted

**Author's Note:**

> umm hi guys I finally watched hq after 5yrs of having it recommended to me by every— (booed off the stage)

“Hey, Iwa-chan.”

“Hm?” Iwaizumi hums softly. The sun is setting, now. Their conversation has died down for the most part, but neither of them have risen to leave just yet.

It’s peaceful here, on the little hill by the playground. They used to run up and down this hill when they’d been younger, eventually collapsing in a heap at the bottom. Whoever had fallen first would lose, and the other one would always say, without fail, _I win_. It had usually been Iwaizumi, back then. Now that they’re older, their legs are much longer, and they can walk down the hill in just a few strides. Graduation is right around the corner, yet Oikawa finds himself never wanting to leave this little hill. 

Iwaizumi remains unperturbed when Oikawa rests his head on his shoulder. It’s not that unusual. Reaching for Iwaizumi’s hand might be. 

Oikawa stays quiet. He doesn’t know what he’d wanted to say, after all. That’s not entirely true, but the fact is, he doesn’t have the words to say it. He’s thought about it countless times, entertained endless grand scenarios, set his own heart off racing with his own silly imagination, and he still doesn’t know where to begin. _Hey, Iwa-chan_ , and that’s it. The words haven’t formed into anything solid yet, something that could come out strong and sure and sweep Iwaizumi away with the honest feeling in them.

“What is it?” Iwaizumi asks after a long while, shifting his head just a little so that it rests atop Oikawa’s. A pleasant warmth buds in his chest at the feeling, unfurling sweetly. It’s nice, even if it aches a little, too. The question hangs in the air. Iwaizumi never lets him get away with anything.

He looks down at his own hand in the grass, so near Iwaizumi’s. He picks at the blades beneath his fingers, not enough to unearth them, but the cool touch soothes his nerves. Iwaizumi remains silent this time, warm and sturdy and there, like he always is. Oikawa sighs softly.

“What if I had something to tell you?” Oikawa does tear out a few blades of grass, then, running them between his fingers before letting go. He wonders if Iwaizumi is watching, too. “But it’s something that you might already know.” So why is it so hard to say? His throat feels inexplicably tight.

Iwaizumi doesn’t reply. Oikawa continues picking at the grass, a small pile of little green tufts forming. _Never mind_ , he says, over and over again in his mind, _it’s nothing, forget it, let’s go_. The familiar fear curls in his stomach, of making a misstep, of ruining everything. A terrible, cascading disaster, one he’ll never be able to come back from. _You’re so dramatic_ , Iwaizumi would say, but Iwaizumi’s not saying anything at all.

Oikawa eventually stops destroying the grass, laying his hand down flat. He wants to dig in, wants to press and pick and pull, but he keeps still. When he glances to Iwaizumi’s hand, it’s sitting in just the same spot. There, like always, but farther than he’d like it to be. Oikawa has always wanted too much, from himself most of all, but also from his teammates, from the world, so he knows it’s his own fault he feels this way. Iwaizumi isn’t to blame for Oikawa wanting more from him, too.

“Hey,” Iwaizumi calls out, startling him. Oikawa freezes, breath caught in his throat. Forces himself to relax, the fingers that had curled against the ground straightening out once more, carefully, one by one. He’s terribly restless, on edge when he shouldn’t be. “Hey,” Iwaizumi says again, more cautious. Oikawa watches in wonderment as that hand moves in slow motion, Iwaizumi’s warm palm settling in over Oikawa’s hand.

Something squeezes horribly in his chest. Iwaizumi has always been too kind, too understanding, when it comes to Oikawa. How many times has he gone along with Oikawa’s whims, just to keep him happy? Of course he won’t brush him off, won’t shut Oikawa down clean and easy. He doesn’t know whether he hates him for it or not.

“Never mind.” He’s able to voice the thought, now, but unable to stop his traitorous hand from shifting, his thumb running over Iwaizumi’s warm skin. “It’s nothing, don’t worry.” They’re holding hands, actually holding hands, and Oikawa wants to both laugh and to cry.

“Oikawa.” Iwaizumi’s voice is so gentle. Why does he have to use a voice like that? _Overkill, Iwa-chan._ Oikawa’s eyes immediately grow wet, and he supposes that crying is going to win out. Will they ever do this again? Be this close? And he dares to wish for even more, from Iwaizumi. He swallows against the burn in the back of his throat, even as Iwaizumi turns his head, presses his nose into Oikawa’s hair.

“You can tell me anything,” he says, breath warm. Oikawa blinks rapidly to keep tears from fully forming. “But only if you want to.” He squeezes at Oikawa’s hand, and Oikawa loses the battle, wetness running down his cheeks. His breathing turns shaky, utterly failing to play it cool at all. Half-formed thoughts of leaping up and running to his house before Iwaizumi can catch him play out in his head, but Oikawa’s not so sure he can outrun him like this. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Oikawa squeezes back, hard, and bites his lip. Surely Iwaizumi knows he’s crying by now. _If people knew what an ugly crier you were, they’d think twice about falling all over you_ , Iwaizumi would say, but this time, he stays quiet, stays close.

“But you are,” he chokes out, then rushes to backtrack. “Not just you, I— I’m also going forward. Without you.” He wipes hurriedly at his face, glad that Iwaizumi can’t actually see him.

“That doesn’t matter,” Iwaizumi says firmly. “You know it doesn’t. Just because we'll be a few hours apart doesn't mean we’re going to suddenly forget about each other.” Oikawa’s heart seizes pitifully at the words, despite Iwaizumi’s easy dismissal. “We’ll just be a phone call away, instead.” Iwaizumi sounds so calm, so sure, that Oikawa would almost believe he isn’t worried, if he hadn’t happened to know Iwaizumi so well.

“Pretty big talk,” Oikawa murmurs. He tries not to raise his voice, not wanting to bring attention to the fact that he’s still crying, pointless as it is. He can get this under control.

“You know I’m right,” Iwaizumi insists. Oikawa almost, almost believes him. Wants to, more than anything.

“So say you are.” _For once_ , the petty side of him adds. Oikawa pulls back slightly, meeting Iwaizumi’s eyes. The bigger part of him wants to bury back into the safety of Iwaizumi’s shoulder, but he presses on. “It’s still going to be hard. Different schedules, new people… less time for old friends.” Oikawa pauses to take a steadying breath. “People drift apart all of the time, whether they think it’s going to happen or not. Neither of us are dumb, despite your many, many attempts to prove otherwise.” He can’t help the dig, though the timing couldn’t be any more inappropriate. Still, it makes Iwaizumi glower at him, and he feels a little better.

“Good one, Oikawa. Nice work on that recycled material,” he quips. “Maybe instead of dancing around the subject, you could actually say what you wanted to say in the first place.”

Oikawa’s brief moment of satisfaction ends abruptly. A horrible, panicky wave hurdles through his stomach, and he shifts away from Iwaizumi, pulling their hands apart. “Iwa-chan. There’s no point.” He runs the back of his hand roughly over his face. 

Iwaizumi groans in frustration. He’s still looking at Oikawa expectantly, but he refuses to give in. “Fine. See if I care,” Iwaizumi bites out, and despite everything, a laugh bubbles out of Oikawa. Iwaizumi stares at him like he’s grown another head, and Oikawa laughs again.

“Sorry, Iwa-chan. I forgot you didn’t advance past fourth grade,” Oikawa says drolly, fighting a shadow of a smile. Teasing Iwaizumi has always come easy, but he knows it sounds all wrong. Iwaizumi’s gaze softens.

“Idiot,” he chides. “I’m not the one crying.”

A low blow, Oikawa thinks, but he’s not wrong. Despite his best attempts, Oikawa’s always felt like his life is one step away from a big mess, and sometimes he thinks the only thing holding him together is Iwaizumi. No one else has seen him at his worst, stood beside him at his very best.

Oikawa looks to him then, warm light cast over features so familiar, so very dear, and confesses, “I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do, Iwa-chan.” His voice cracks, and Iwaizumi’s gaze is too much; it seems to pierce right through him. Oikawa looks back to his own palms. He’s a coward, when it matters. “I know what I want, but I…” He pauses, throat closing up. “I don’t know what you want. From me. I think that what I want is different.”

His palms grow blurry, and he blinks furiously. It doesn’t help at all. “I hate this part of myself, Iwa-chan. I can’t even say any of this properly, yet I still expect you to accept how I feel about you.”

The words hang in the air, heavy, unable to be taken back. A hair’s breadth away from revealing too much, all of it, everything. Oikawa wonders if this is what suffocating feels like. He’s tempted to tug at his own collar, either that or attempt to strangle himself with it.

“Oikawa,” Iwaizumi says, gruff, and Oikawa hates the understanding in the simple utterance of his name. His hands curl up into fists, childish, petulant, and Iwaizumi’s saying something else, but he can’t hear it through the buzz in his ears.

“How can I ask you to wait for me, when you don’t have any reason to?” Oikawa’s voice is thick with tears now, shameful, plaintive and miserable. Iwaizumi’s eyes have clouded over, dark and sad. Oikawa hates himself for putting him in this position. He wishes he could shut down his emotions, for once, but he’s still talking. “How is that fair?”

Iwaizumi’s eyebrows furrow together, a complex series of emotions passing over his face before he settles into one of his more fearsome scowls. It’s almost reassuring that Iwaizumi can still glare at him like this. He won’t treat him gently just out of pity.

“Who decides what’s fair? _You_?” Iwaizumi snarls. He turns away sharply, staring at nothing. “What do you know about my reasons for doing anything?”

“Of course I know,” Oikawa mutters, unable to hold back a sniff. He must look truly awful, but when Iwaizumi glances back to him, his expression is unreadable. “I’m the person that knows you best, after all.”

“Better than I know myself?” Iwaizumi raises a challenging eyebrow.

“Maybe,” Oikawa replies. He’d like to think so, but Iwaizumi’s not like to admit it.

“So does that mean I know you better than you know yourself, too?”

Oikawa’s mouth opens, but nothing comes out. He supposes he’d walked right into that one. Iwaizumi grins, a little mean, the way he always does when he pulls a win over Oikawa. He would feel more annoyed by it if he weren’t utterly confused over what Iwaizumi’s trying to get at.

“I don’t know,” Oikawa says slowly, allowing the mild concession. “What’s your point?” He frowns, reaching up to wipe at his face again. Iwaizumi catches his wrist.

He looks up, startled, into Iwaizumi’s fiery gaze. “My point is, I know exactly what you’re trying to do.”

Oikawa tugs, but Iwaizumi’s grip remains firm. “And what exactly is _that_ , all-knowing Iwa-chan?” If this is what Iwaizumi had wanted, he’s definitely growing irritated now.

“You’re an idiot,” he says, and Oikawa yanks harshly from Iwaizumi’s hold. But Iwaizumi lets him go, brings both of his hands to Oikawa’s shoulders before he can make to stand. He digs in, fierce scowl right up in Oikawa’s face, and all Oikawa wants to do is throw him backwards and kick dirt in his stupid, awful —

“You’re blaming yourself.” Oikawa freezes up like a statue. Iwaizumi’s hold loosens, just a little, but the scowl remains. “As if there’s anything to blame yourself for. You always do this.” He shakes his head, rolls his eyes and looks to the sky, like he’s dealing with a child. Oikawa sneers, starts to say something back, but Iwaizumi raises one hand, lightning quick, and smashes his palm over Oikawa’s face.

Oikawa releases a highly undignified squawk, but he’s fairly certain that it’s justified in this situation. If they were younger, he thinks he might lick Iwaizumi’s palm. _You’re so disgusting_ , Iwaizumi would say, but he’s only looming in closer now.

“I wasn’t finished.” Oikawa glares, raises both hands to forcefully pull Iwaizumi away. The tirade he’d been prepared to unleash doesn’t come, and he just - stares, at Iwaizumi. Holds his wrist in one hand, the other fallen onto his own thigh. Iwaizumi breathes harshly, like he’s run a mile, and Oikawa isn’t sure when he’d stopped crying.

“Like I care,” he says glumly. He looks down, away from Iwaizumi’s face, to where he’s grasping at his wrist. Iwaizumi doesn’t appear to notice, or maybe he just doesn’t care. Oikawa’s fingertips seem to burn.

“My point is…” Iwaizumi starts over, then sighs. “You think you have to take responsibility for everything. To carry every burden. When the truth is, there’s someone right beside you the whole time.” Iwaizumi’s voice has become very soft now, the hand on Oikawa’s shoulder sliding away. “Someone who’s clearly just as stupid as you are, if you’d just turn your big dumb head to look.”

When he tilts his chin up, heart fluttering, hammering, soaring, it’s to find Iwaizumi wearing a tremulous smile, ears a little red, and Oikawa thinks - hopes - wants -

“Iwa-chan,” he says, and he’s crying again, messy and uglier than ever. He’s not sure whether Iwaizumi had pulled him in or he’d just fallen into his arms on his own. He doesn’t think it really matters. “Iwa-chan,” he repeats, certain that he’s ruining Iwaizumi’s shirt, “Iwa-chan—“

“It’s okay,” Iwaizumi says, a little clumsy, and Oikawa’s fingers twist into the back of his shirt. He never, ever wants to let go, Iwaizumi’s clumsy care and affection winding all around his heart. He knows it’s unfair of him, to want to hold on to someone so much, but Iwaizumi’s telling him not to carry it all on his own.

He laughs wetly, voice coming out thick and broken. “I’m the worst, aren’t I, Iwa-chan?”

Iwaizumi sighs, one hand raising to cradle the back of Oikawa’s head. He lets out a strangled little sound, surprises himself with it, but Iwaizumi only sighs again. “Don’t you get it? I’m telling you there’s no one else.” Oikawa stifles a sob into Iwaizumi’s shoulder, precious, precious Iwaizumi, who holds him close and says, “Who else would I want?”

All he can do is hold on tightly, enveloped in Iwaizumi’s arms. He’s the strong one, the leader, their captain, but he can’t imagine where he’d be without Iwaizumi. And now, he won’t be beside him, they’ll be apart, both making their own way. He can’t dare to ask Iwaizumi, but —

“Iwa-chan.” It’s muffled into Iwaizumi’s collarbone, the fabric beneath Oikawa’s face wet with tears. Iwaizumi makes a sound of acknowledgement, pats at Oikawa’s hair carefully, if not a little awkwardly. It’s not at all like the times he musses Oikawa’s hair normally. He sniffs and pulls back, just a bit, to look at Iwaizumi’s face. He’s frowning slightly, a little unsure, color high in his cheeks. Oikawa finds it all very endearing. His heart is beating very fast, might just go ahead and race out of his chest at this rate. “Don’t tell anyone, but I've always been a little selfish,” he whispers.

Iwaizumi purses his lips. “I wouldn’t dream of it,” he says drily, brushing Oikawa’s hair behind his ear. Somehow Oikawa’s falling even harder, entranced by this tender, careful Iwaizumi, who’d so boldly declared he would never want anyone but Oikawa. Had he imagined that? Misunderstood somehow?

“You’re the only one I want,” Oikawa says, _now and always, forever_. He’ll say it clearly, clarify it as many times as Iwaizumi asks him to. Iwaizumi’s face is stark red and all he wants to do is lean forward, map the warmth with his lips. “You’re it for me, Iwa-chan.” He tries a cheeky smile, but his voice is too earnest. Iwaizumi’s eyes widen, like saucers. Is it really so surprising for Oikawa to say it? No, maybe not - but to mean it; that’s the difference. And Iwaizumi knows him, can tell when he’s joking, or teasing, knows his petty side and every single one of his bad habits. He also knows when Oikawa’s being honest; Iwaizumi knows him better than anyone.

He still doesn’t have all of the proper words, but a sweet sense of urgency beats in his chest, to the rhythm of his heart. He rushes ahead before he loses his nerve, does something unforgivable like laugh all of this off, something like, _did you really think I was serious, Iwa-chan?_ falling from his lips.

“It’s dumb, because I - we’re best friends, you know? You’ve already given me so much, Iwa-chan. I don’t know how I ended up with someone like you." He feels like the luckiest person in the world when he turns to Iwaizumi on the court, feels the thrill, the understanding between them. "I want to just go on being with you, I want to do all the things we’ve always done and have you look at me just like this.” _Just like this._ His own face warms steadily under Iwaizumi’s gaze. “I want to hold your hand, and to - to touch you. Without thinking so much.” Iwaizumi’s eyes have gone round again; he’s almost driven to tell him to _blink, please_. He doesn’t, somehow resists the temptation to reach for Iwaizumi’s hand, too.

“I want to look at you, and not worry what face you might see when you look back. I want to tell you that your scowls are scary and your smiles are ugly and have you know that’s not what I mean at all.” He laughs a little, breathless and embarrassed. Is this too much? “I want to always be the person who knows you best, Iwa-chan. I want you to know me, and you do.” He wishes this would sound as eloquent as it had in the endless times he’s imagined this moment. But those hadn't been real, Iwaizumi won't be swooning in his arms and running off with him to leave everything behind. And that's okay, because this is his Iwaizumi, the only one who matters. Oikawa smiles, his next words sincere, certain, in love. “I want to make you happy.”

There aren’t nearly enough words to encapsulate it all. That had always been the problem, really. _I love you, I love you, I don’t know how to stop._ Not that, just yet, but he might be saying it anyway with how he looks at Iwaizumi, the way he’s leaning close, the hitch of his breath and the sound of his voice.

He thinks this might be the bravest thing he’s ever done, surely the scariest; he’s terrified beyond belief, but also - an ache inside lessens with each word out of his mouth, each moment he looks at Iwaizumi. How could Oikawa ever feel like this about anyone else? Patient Iwaizumi, with his slightly pinched expression, letting Oikawa stumble along and hanging on to every word like it’s a treasure.

“Sorry, I can’t stop talking.” His smile widens when Iwaizumi’s eyebrows furrow. It must be torturous for him to sit in silence for so long. It seems unbelievable, impossible in every way, but Iwaizumi - Oikawa’s been holding back, agonizing alone, not thinking of what Iwaizumi might be going through, all of this time. Selfish in the worst of ways, yet he still can’t help but ask, “Please let me try?” It comes out soft, on a breath, on the breeze.

Their fingers tangle together, though who’d moved first, he can’t say. Iwaizumi huffs, aggrieved as always when Oikawa makes one of his unreasonable requests. _You think you can just drag me along with anything, don’t you_ , Iwaizumi would say, but he’s fighting a smile, instead. His eyes are bright and warm, warmer still when Oikawa’s fingers gently trace the curve of his jaw. He thinks he might be dreaming, but Iwaizumi would laugh if he were to say so.

His reply comes after they’ve both moved forward, foreheads pressed together. Oikawa’s heartbeat drums loudly in his ears, eyelids drifting closed. Iwaizumi’s breath on his skin is nearly as warm as the feeling expanding in his chest.

“Do you even have to ask?”

**Author's Note:**

> YEAH SO I finally watched hq, can you believe it…! ([mysecretfanmoments](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mysecretfanmoments) rolls over in her not-grave) This is just a very small thing I wrote in one sitting. I haven’t read the manga, but the idea of their separation after high school, after being friends forever, makes me quite sad?? Sorry for making Oikawa cry (I can't believe there's already a tag for this???) but I can’t imagine canonverse iwaoi confessions without some tears shed. Please rest assured the next time Oikawa cries is far off in the future, probably while Iwaizumi is whispering _Tooru_ over and over gently into his neck while jacking him off (prayer hands)
> 
> I'd like to take a moment to bid adieu to my old laptop, particularly its broken R key, flickering screen, and utterly busted battery. More importantly, thank you for taking the time to read! I appreciate you very much!


End file.
